Requiem for a Saint
by thenonartist
Summary: So, whatever happened with Colossus and the other children that escaped from the school?  exercise in character development, uses an OC. Eventually gets to an M .
1. Chapter 1

The day was muggy, bleak. A lazy drizzle fell over top the vaulted sky rises and down onto the streets below, the soft pitter-patters forcing the people to scurry from one shelter to the next. It was almost artistic the way in which the cities energy flowed in and out; likes waves of an ocean never breaking upon a shore. The sound likened to a symphony, for indeed it was one. Not of strings and chords, but of blares and chaos. And all around, life played out as a moving painting, from one still to the next.

Yet underneath the cars, trucks, and footfalls was another world entirely. A world of near silent dolour. It was here, within the wreckage of an old subway track that a different breed of people took their rightful place. There were the misbegotten, the outcasts, and broken. Unwanted by the world that clung to its pretty materialism to distract them from the lesser points of life. It was here that a semi-city was build, beneath the real one above. It had no cars, no streets, no utilities, just rows of make-shift houses and burning debris for light and heat. It had no fancy clothes or restaurants; just ragged bands of what could be salvaged, crudely stitched together by worn thread and tore cloth, and meals of left over dumpster scraps. And it was here to two 'upworlders' walked, strangers to this place.

Ororo Munroe, in her own primal elegance, gently pushed the wheelchair of Professor Xavier around the rugged terrain, marveling at the scene around here. "Professor," her voice slightly breaks, "are you sure that the boy is down here? This hardly seems the place…"

A placid smile over took the Professor's face as he kept his face directly ahead, not bothering to fully take in the view before him, "With all certainty, Ororo. And, what better place to hide than amount the forgotten?"

Storm took a weak smile of her own, "I suppose you're right. It's just so, so depressing here. To see all these people and how they suffer here while the world above acts completely oblivious to their existence. It's heartbreaking in every way."

There was no response; there wasn't a need for one. The solemn understanding of the pity surroundings fully expressed the impact of any words. So the passage of the two strangers continued, unabated by the native habitants, until their destination became garishly apparent. Literally walled off with a large collection of refuse from the rest of 'community' stood a makeshift campsite. Two flimsy poles held up a tattered awning while light flashed in wicked shapes against the shattered wall behind it. It was a veritable mansion among the shanty town around it. Pushing Xavier through sloppily centered wall gap, Ororo was slightly a gasped by home she found. The whole structure was perfectly laid out, fully-furnished with the entire accommodations standard to any high income home. Leather couches, queen bed, a working television, dinning room, and even standing electric lamps. On one couch lounged a teen, barely paying any attention to the world about him. He wasn't exceptionally tall, the average height for others his age, nor was thin or wide. He was, for all appearances, a normal teenage. An idle hand played through cropped raven while listless green eyes paid half attention to the evening news on the screen before him.

"Quite an impressive place, Mr. Silverlake."

The boy shot up with a start at the sound of a new voice, a quick flash of shock taking his face before replacing itself with a perfect form of stone. "If you're here from my father, you can just tell him to go fuck himself now. I'm not leaving."

With a broad smile and slight chuckle, Xavier wheeled himself further into the room, with Storm taking her place beside him without a word. "Such colorful language for one such as yourself. Regrettably, I do not come on behalf of your father, Mr. Silverlake. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Professor Charles Xavier, and this is my associate, Ororo Munroe." Storm replied merely with a polite nod of her head.

The boy took a short pause, mulling over his two visitors before stiffing him into a more formal position, a warm smile of his own, "Please, call me Bastion. And I apologize for sounding rude, I don't get many visitors. I would offer you something to drink but as you can see, my accommodations are somewhat limited at preset."

"Precisely why I've come to speak with you Bastion. A good friend of mine, who happens to know your father, informed me of what had occurred and asked me to help. After hearing your story, I was more that happy to offer. And so here I am."

"Oh, is that so? Well, Professor Xavier, I hate to break your heart but I don't need any help. I am making due quite well on my own."

Ororo cocked an eyebrow, glancing around about here, "As we can see."

Bastion echoed a dry laugh, "Heh, this is merely temporary. Just waiting it out a while until I go to get a job. Then I'll get a real place to stay."

"I can offer that to you now, Bastion…"

"I don't need your charity."

"Oh no, not charity, a chance at life. You see, I run a school for gifted students such as yourself. Should you choose to accept it, there will be a place there for you. A bed, meals, cloths, and most importantly an education. You could get back the life you had before, you could go places, make a difference in the world."

Turning away, Bastion slowly began to chew on his lower lip. A difference. Other kids had never really thought about, but it had always been his passion, his father's passion. Disease, poverty, hunger, oppression, he was hyper active in pressing these issues at every chance he could get. Mostly he'd been brushed off, never taken seriously, but he knew that in the future – when he was older – that would change; an education was very important to that though. "I…I can't pay anything, and my father most certainly wouldn't."

"There is no cost, we are a privately funded school open to everyone."

Bastion bit down harder, "I don't…I don't exactly get along with special students."

"I'm aware of your previous family background and the atmosphere that you were surrounded in. While I understand it will take some adjusting to, I am confident enough in your ability to adapt. Plus, the students and other teachers are very out going."

"…I…I have crazy sleep schedules, and I'm all over the place, constantly causing problems."

"Now you're just fishing for excuses. You've been the poster child all your life, never a single school reported incident, highly active in extra-curricular, excelled in your courses. I promise, Bastion, you'll do fine here."

The shook his head, letting out a deep sigh, "Fine, I'll go. Let me get my things."

Without another word, Bastion stood up and went to his bed, pulling out a large duffle bag which he quickly began to stuff back full of clothes and books that were littered around the area. Fully packed, he quietly rejoined the pair at the entrance to his makeshift home. A quick flick, and the illusion melted away. The television went dead, reverting back to its shattered frame, the couches, bed, tables, and other furniture faded back into crudely stacked boxes, bent frames, and ripped up garbage. Storm, slightly taken aback, cast a quick glace to the young teen who merely shrugged in reply. "Illusion," he stated flatly, "let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

"I must admit Mr. Silverlake, I had thought you would take a little more convincing to join us. From what I'm told, you can quite stubborn when you want to be."

The rain had stopped, and the midday sun now hung lazily in the air, just starting the slow decent towards twilight. Bastion's eyes had been glued to the drifting scenery ever since they left the city streets; quietly contemplating the sparsely wooded countryside. He had always loved the more open country or suburbs over the compact and dizzy city. It was so much more charming, so much more peaceful. "Silver," his voice was flat "my last name is now Silver, but call me Bastion." The teen paused for a second, releasing a soft sigh. "And, yea, I can stand against a hurricane for the things I want."

"A hurricane you say? Then why give in so easily?" The Professor's halfcocked smile appeared once again while stealing a glance towards Storm, their driver, inwardly chuckling at the mention of weather.

"You have what I want. Since as long as I can remember, I've always wanted an education, the best education. I wanted to learn everything there was to learn. I wanted to then use what I knew to help people like…like my dad. Only better than him! I wouldn't trivialize people's concerns, I wouldn't dehumanize the opposition so I could sleep better at night, I wouldn't stomp over the people that got in my way. I'd actually pay attention to things that mattered and not rip families apart over nothing!" His voice grew the more he spoke, his breathing got quick, a small sheer of sweat beginning to form over his brow. Slowly, he calmed himself, and began laughing at his own outburst. "Sorry, I get carried away sometimes."

Charles' smile only widened, "Nonsense, it is good to see such passion."

Another sigh, "I guess." Bastion was back to his blank mood, shutting everyone, everything out but the rolling country side out his window. i I will be better than him, I swear it. I'll show him what it really means to be the voice of the people. I'll prove myself, I'm better than he thought, better than anyone thought! I'll help people, loads of people. I'll… /i 

"So how long have you know about your powers?" Storm spoke for the first time.

"Huh?" Bastion was suddenly torn from his thoughts, his personal resolutions against his father. "Oh, it was actually when I was only six. I had wanted nothing more than a dinosaur cake, it had been my biggest wish in the world. I didn't get it, of course, and I was furious, I threw such a fit and when I looked back at the cake, it had dinosaurs all over it." Bastion laughed, "It such a stupid thing, and I didn't really realize what had happened, but ever since then I was able to convince myself and others of little things like that. Around thirteen I finally figured out what it was and started to focus on my abilities. One of my focuses was in making animals, since I had always wanted a pet. I'd sit in my room and create dogs and cats and birds and lizards and all sorts of animals. I'd send them throughout the house to startle the staff or my mother. One day, my father saw one of them coming back into my room and cornered me about it. He started yelling at me, asking where the dog was. I eventually broke down and told him the truth. That there was no dog; that I was a mutant. That only made him angrier and, well, you know the rest."

"I'm sorry," was Storms curt, though sincere, reply.

Bastion merely laughed. "For what? You aren't him. You don't follow his ridiculous ideology that a few misplaced nucleotides creates an uncontrollable monster. I'm angry at him, I hate him even, but I'm not stupid enough to direct that towards everyone else. Heh," he laughed again, "maybe all those years of being forced to attend those boring high class 'parties' rubbed off on me more than I thought."

"And your mother?" Charles asked bluntly.

"I…I don't know," Bastion grew cold, distant; instantly reverting to his preoccupations with the outside world. Effectively cutting off the conversation.

Professor Xavier couldn't help but laugh inwardly once again. i So different from others his age, yet so typical. He'll discuss at length any topic that he is well versed in or actively interested in, but instantly shuts down from anything that he only has a tentative answer for. Still he's an interesting character none the less. /i 

"Professor…"

i His emotions could be a problem, however. Socially, he seems very apt, but his tendency to shut down and shut out everyone could have ill effects, especially since people are generally easily impressed upon in such circumstances. And for a mutant of any power, being easily impressed and emotional is a dangerous combination. /i 

"Professor"

Xavier startled slightly, "Sorry Bastion, you caught me lost in my own thoughts. Did you need something?"

Bastion's eyes never left the rolling fields outside the window as he spoke, "Yes, I was just wondering about this school. Will I have a roommate? How many? What are classes like? How many will I take? How many students are there? What free time is there? What is there to do around the school? Where is this school?"

Another laugh, "Certainly lots of questions, Bastion. Let's see, you will have a roommate, whom you will meet when we get there. Classes are taught by our staff, whom are all mutants as well. You will study all major areas of academia: literature, math, politics, sciences, and a foreign language, as well as studying human/mutant relations. We have just over forty students at the school, twenty-odd of which are in your age range and will be sharing your classes. Classes begin promptly at 8:30 am and are over at 2:00, with only a small break given at various times based on age range for lunch. The older students then have another hour of 'lecture' devoted towards developing control over their abilities. Afterwards, you will be free to do as you please so long as you remain on the grounds. The area around the school is sparsely wooded with a few trails about, there is a lake that contains a working boathouse, and there is also a horse stable with a few solid mares if you enjoy equestrian sports. Speaking of sports, there are a few open fields and courts for some games. With permission, and an adult escort, you are allowed to leave the school on weekends. The school itself is a large estate that has been in my family for generations in Westchester, and we should be arriving there shortly…"

Just as Professor Xavier finished speaking, the car turned off the main road and onto a long driveway; Xavier's School for the Gifted reaching imperially out towards the sky ahead of them. Bastion sat up stiffly in his seat, leaning forward for a better view. The over all size of the build, though impressive, wasn't all that imposing towards the youth as it was to others. He had, after all, lived in such a place all his life. But this one was different. This was a house to people like himself, a home to mutants. Sudden apprehension struck him. What if the students recognized him? What if he wasn't powerful enough for them? What if the students held his father's views against him? What if he didn't fit into their little social circle? Generally, such things wouldn't have bothered him. He had never really been concerned with fitting in at any of his other schools, nor did he care to hear the other students and teachers political ideas. Yet this time was different. Before, he knew that nothing he did mattered anyway. Within a year, he would have probably transferred to a new school, sometimes even sooner than that. And if he didn't fit in, then he could also just request himself to be relocated, or even home schooled. There were always other options, other avenues for him to survive off of, but here there wasn't. There would be no changes, no new schools, and no opportunities to seek shelter at home, just what he made of himself here. The finality was overbearing. However he had little choice in the matter now.

With a heavy sigh as the car parked inside the garage, Bastion clutched his duffle bag close and stepped outside. i My life as a mutant: Act one. Break a leg, Bastion. /i 


	3. Chapter 3

The inside of the mansion seemed nearly dead. The distant voices of a television could be heard somewhere in the distant as the trio made their way up towards the dormitories, but the place appeared to be otherwise vacant. Bastion glanced at his watch: 4:12 PM. Classes were over, the sun was shining again, the students must all be outside; he mused. A light smile began to curl his lips, a feeling of unchained youth trickling over him. Such energy abounded inside this complex, even with the denizens currently absent. It reminded him of the times right before a 'big party' that his father was throwing. Just sitting in the main ball room watching all the maids and planners scurry about, readying everything for the nights reception.

Once they reached a pair of grand stairs at the front of the building, the trio paused for a moment. Professor Xavier wheeled himself around to face his new pupil, fully sizing up the young man before him. i Yes, very interesting indeed. /i With a grin, Charles gave a slight bow, "This is where we'll part ways. Storm will show you to your room upstairs. Your roommate, assuming he actually listened for once, should be there waiting to help you and show you around the place. Luckily, it is a Friday so there won't be any classes for you to attend tomorrow, however they will start again come Monday, and I'm sure you'll be present. Just follow your roommate; he'll know where to go."

The teen gave a low nod of his head, "Of course, Professor."

"Splendid. And with that, I bid you adieu. 'Til we meet again, Bastion."

"Goodbye, Professor." Bastion called towards the retreating man. A few seconds passed in complete silence as the pair watched the Professor leave towards his own, personal office.

"Bastion," Storm's voice was cooler, much friendlier than it had seemed previously, and she wore a smile perfectly befitting her smooth face "I'd like you to at least try and be friendly with your roommate. There aren't a whole lot of students here, as you can tell, and so it's easier on everyone the more people get along."

A soft laugh, more for his own assurance than anything, "I promise to be the perfect gentlemen." Bastion studied the place as they climbed up the center staircase. The school was a quaint place, rather unassuming by some standards. There were a few pieces of art hung about, mostly for stylistic flair nothing rare or exotic. i Heh, probably best, /i he thought, i anything valuable would probably get destroyed in a place full of freaks like this. /i He stopped for a brief second, hardly noticeable, a little taken aback by his thoughts. Freaks, that's what he considered mutants to be; a freak, is what he considered himself to be. Yet, it was a slightly prideful name in an odd pseudo-defiant way. "Mrs. Munroe, could you tell me anything more about my roommate?"

"Hmm, why don't you ask him yourself?" the woman said just as she stopped in front of a door marked with a golden 22. She knocked, loudly, before calling out "Bobby, you can come out of hiding now."

There was some loud shuffling followed by a solid thud heard from beyond the door; silence, then a scrambling at the door. A flustered teenaged boy poked his head out, face slightly flushed. Seeing Storm, he pulled the door completely open, "Sorry Mrs. Munroe, I was just cleaning up a little for the new guy." Bobby didn't seem any more abnormal than any other teen his age. He stood at the average height of 5'8'' with his weight being of similar average proportion. His short, brown hair was slightly spiked up, though currently falling a little flat, while his icy blue eyes seemed to shift about with a slight nervousness, betraying the lopsided grin hanging on his lips.

Storm shook her head, releasing a shallow sigh, "The room that you were supposed to have cleaned a few days ago?"

With a weak laugh, the accused shifted awkwardly on his feet, "Yeah, well, you know. Things came up and I got sort of busy and all. It's completely ready now though, I promise." Bobby paused, hoping that the woman would make some form of approving statement. When it became obvious that she wasn't going to say anything, Bobby shifted on his feet again, "So when is he getting here?"

On cue, Bastion stepped into view and gave a wave, "Heh, guess I'm here. Name's Bastion, Bastion Silver."

The teens eyes widened a little in surprise, like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, as a light blush crept over his face, "Oh, sorry, didn't see you there," he mumbled. "I'm Bobby, nice to meet ya and all that jazz."

"Likewise, I'm sure," Bastion sighed. i A buffoon, they're shacking me up with a buffoon. But, I promised to play nice. /i 

"Well," Storm spoke plainly, "I'll just leave you two alone. Bobby, don't forget to show him around and make sure that he manages to get to his classes on Monday," before turning to retreat farther down the hallway.

"See ya Storm!" Bobby yelled. Once the older woman was out of sight, he turned, a goofy smile covering his face, to regard his new roommate. "Seriously sorry about that, didn't expect you to get here this soon, but the room i is /i clean. I was just a little busy with, ahh, studying."

"I see."

"So, umm, ya." An awkward pause passed as both boys just stood there staring at one another listlessly, both seemingly lost in different worlds.

"Well, are you going to let me in, or should I set up out here?"

"Oh!" the young man nearly jumped as he was suddenly ripped back to reality, "sorry. Yeah, yeah, come in." Bobby pushed back into the room, leaving the other to make is own way around. "The rooms aren't great, but they're better than nothing. You're stuff can all go on the right side, there's a desk and dresser and bed and stuff all ready for you. It's just been me in here for a good number of months now, so I don't think the last kid who had that side left anything behind. We've got a communal bathroom down the hall from here also on the left. Can't really miss it, there's a sign and everything. Kinda sucks to share it and all, but what can you do? Mostly it isn't very full, with there not being many of us here and all, but it can get a little crowded in the mornings. Best to shower either late afternoon or later in the night. Just be careful. We've got a few pranksters running around that really love given the new guys a hard time. Mostly harmless stuff, but don't surprised if your towel or clothes or something goes missing. I remember this one time when…"

"Do you always babble?"

"What?"

"Em, sorry," Bastion shrugged it off as he dropped his duffle bag on top of his pre-made bed. The room seemed rather alright, if a bit plain. The walls were a practical stark white, with a few posters on Bobby's side while the rest of the furniture was a common, yet sturdy, oak. The beds seemed nice; full sized, basic white sheets and a comforter that looked vaguely like denim. The overall sized was a little cramped, or at least compared to what Bastion was used to, but it seemed to fit well enough. Enough moving space for both of them to get around easily, but it was obvious that it wasn't designed for having any more than three people in it. Bastion turned to face his roommate, "You were just babbling and I wondered if you always do it."

"Well, umm," Bobby grew embarrassed, "I guess not. I dunno, just not used to being the one that greets the newbies. It's kinda awkward."

Responding with a small nod, Bastion turned back around and began to unpack. Carefully he pulled out all of his neatly folded clothes, laying them on the bed. "I guess." Silence again.

"Sooo…ehh, where ya from?"

"A little suburb outside of NYC."

"Cool."

Bastion just focused on getting all of his stuff, which there wasn't much of, out of the bag. i Buffoon, buffoon, buffoon! An uneducated chimp would be better at holding a conversation than him! I swear, are all of Professor Xavier's students this inept, or did I just get a special case? /i A small sigh. i I suppose I must humor him. /i "And you?"

"Oh, ummm, I'm from a small place just outside of Boston."

"Boston? I've heard it's nice."

"Yeah, it is. Especially during the fall when the leaves all change colors." The blonde continued to just stand there, unsure of what to do. He was trying to be nice, trying to get to know his new roommate better, but that wasn't exactly going fantastically at the moment. Bastion just seemed far too stand-offish and anti-social for him. After another long pause of Bobby doing nothing but shifting back and forth on his feet, he decided to try and give conversation another shot. "So, what can you do?"

Bastion stopped cold for a second. i What can I do? Am I merely here as some side-show freak for this ignorant buffoon? Is my worth to him judged merely based on 'what I can do? How disgustingly shallow. /i He was being judgmental, he was being ridiculous, he was being an all out bastard; he knew it. He knew, he just didn't care at the moment. It seemed rather unfair to his new roommate, but what did he matter? He was just an uncaring buffoon who was only pretending to be nice at the moment because he was forced to, right? i Right /i Bastion sighed again. i No, he does matter. Look at what you are becoming Bastion, and why? Acting exactly like your father and for what reason? Because Bobby was some stranger? Because Bobby wasn't as well off as himself? Because Bobby was a mutant… /i "No," he whispered under his breath, "I won't be like him." With a broad smile, Bastion turn back around, looking Bobby in the face. "I can touch my nose with my tongue. See!"

At first, Bobby didn't know what to think, and so just stood there dumbfounded. Here, this boy had been a boarder line jerk with nothing at all of a personality was completely blowing off and ridiculing him and his attempts at a conversation. He was almost furious; almost. Then he saw the stupid grin and burst out laughing. "There's something special!"

The two laughed for what seemed like a hour at the horrible joke. It was if all the tension, all the awkward silence and estrangement between the two vanished in an instant, for Bastion at least. "Seriously," he spoke after composing himself, "I'm an illusionist. I can trick people's minds into seeing things that aren't there and sometimes hide things that are there."

"Cool"

Bastion bit his lower lip, but still retained his smile, "Yeah, cool" Finishing his clothes, he carefully began to take out his stack of books and pile them on by one on top of the bed. It was like watching a scientist work his movements were so meticulous. Each book was lifted, examined, and then placed – perfectly even – on the stack.

"Heh, you certainly like to read I guess."

The light-hearted mood that had filled bastion suddenly darkened. "Yeah, love it."

For the first time, Bobby moved. He walked over, picking up the top book on the stack, looking it over. "Advanced Theories on Progressive Evolution by Dr. Henry P. McCoy, interesting…"

"Don't touch that!" Bastion snapped, snatching the book from the other boy. "Sorry, I just, really don't like for people to through my collection. Some of the copies I have are extremely hard to find and some are just personal." He sighed again and placed the book back on the place, perfectly in alignment with the others. "You don't have to just stand there you know, I'll be able to unpack on my own. Why don't you go hang with your friends or something?"

"Oh…umm, you sure? No, I mean, I promised to take you on that tour and all. Ya know, show you around the place, introduce you to a few people."

"That's okay, really, I'll be fine. The Professor showed me some of the layout on the way up here, and I like doing a little bit of exploring on my own. Makes it seem more adventurous." His eyes dropped back down to the stack of books, as he lightly tapped at the top cover. "And, look, don't worry about the book thing. I just get over protective sometimes; I didn't mean to get all wound up about it."

"Heh, yeah, sorry about that again." Bobby turned and headed for the door, "I'll probably be outside by the lake if you want to come hang, there's always a group of us there."

"Alright, I might check it out later."

"Cool, later then."

"See ya." i Finally the bu…finally alone. /i 


End file.
